


Though the touch of your lips these fears dismiss (Mighty Like a Rose)

by JoshDunismyspiritanimal



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M, Teenagers, elvis costello - Freeform, handjobs, i wanna write a fic around this, its summertime and this is really cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-24 23:53:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6171766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoshDunismyspiritanimal/pseuds/JoshDunismyspiritanimal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on an ask to @shadyfob 's sin blog on Tumblr. "Teenage!peterick making out and giving each other messy handjobs and just moving against each other while the setting sun is shining through the window, illuminating the whole room gold, and elvis costello is on patrick's record player"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Though the touch of your lips these fears dismiss (Mighty Like a Rose)

It's just a lazy Sunday afternoon in the middle of August. The week has been hot, full of sitting on the back porch playing around on guitars at midnight when it's cooler, and trips to Joe’s house to play on his PlayStation with the curtains drawn, lights off, air conditioning turned all the way up. This summer has been sweet and sweaty, and Patrick wouldn't wish it any different.

Elvis Costello is playing on the record player in the corner of the room, his favourite song from the record repeating, over and over again. In all the world there’s only one true love. Just Sweet Pear, Sweet Pear, again and again and again.

Rays of sunshine are slanting in through the window, pushing past the hastily drawn curtains and illuminating the two bodies, pressed close together on the bed.

Patrick’s face is pushed into his boyfriend’s shoulder, lips moving purposelessly against the bare skin there. Pete has one of his hands tangled into the smaller boy’s coppery-bronze hair, and the other is wrapped around his cock, stroking it lazily and once in a while running his thumb over the head. He relishes the small gasps Patrick occasionally lets out, enjoying the feel of the latter’s hand around his own dick.

“I love you so fucking much,” he mumbles into Patrick’s hair, and he breathes in the familiar smell of sweat and strawberries and cream shampoo. Patrick is the sweetest kid Pete’s ever had the pleasure of meeting, and they haven't actually fucked or made love or anything yet, but hell, from everything pumping through his veins right now, this might at well count.

‘Trick pulls his head away from Pete’s shoulders and doesn't answer. But he does move his face closer and press their lips together in a sweet, messy kiss. The brunet speeds his hand up a little and swallows the little noises his boyfriend is making. God, he wants to take this moment, this summer, and just put it into his memories forever, so he can relive it whenever he wants. It's so good, so perfect.

He's in love.

“I bless whatever’s in the sky above for bringing you to me,” Patrick sings against Pete’s lips, and he just takes in the former’s words, eating them up like candy. He presses his tongue against Patrick’s lips, but they’re already open, and he licks over the top of his mouth, just for the shudder Patrick gives off every time Pete does this.

“Sing for me,” Pete whispers, and he presses his nose into Patrick’s cheek, tries to concentrate on keeping the rhythm of his hand steady with the movement of his lips against skin. He's kissing anything he can reach, Patrick’s lips, nose, cheeks, ears, closed eyelids that flutter at each movement: it's painfully beautiful, painfully sweet, painfully surreal.

“And now you're back where I pretend you belong,” Patrick sings, and Pete’s tempted to swallow up his words with another kiss. “I wonder every night and day, how long?”

“Forever, baby,” the brunet whispers, and Patrick lets out a moan, his face falling back into Pete’s shoulder. “I'm never going to leave you, okay ‘Trick? I'm always going to be here for you.”

Patrick’s panting and gasping against Pete’s skin, but he’s still moving his own hand along Pete’s cock and god is it doing wonders. “Promise?” he manages to get out between breaths.

Pete takes Patrick’s chin in his free hand and guides their lips carefully together. His boyfriend’s out of breath, and has to break the kiss a bunch of times just to breathe, but he doesn't care, because he is just so in love. “I promise.”

He hooks his pinky with the one on Patrick’s free hand and brings them up to kiss it, never breaking eye contact. The ginger-blond smiles, but it's almost immediately broken by a moan as he comes right then into Pete’s still moving hand. His own stops for a moment before picking the pace back up, and Pete soon follows.

Now they’re both kind of sticky, pressed up against each other in the summer heat as the setting sun streams in through the curtains and rests on their tired bodies. Sweet Pear keeps on spinning and playing, always repeating the same words, but a different story each time. Pete gathers Patrick into his arms and presses his face into the soft hair on his head.

Patrick just sighs and sinks into Pete’s body, his arms wrapping around his waist and holding on tightly.

That's how they fall asleep, in sticky sheets with the sunlight making them glow, golden brown and porcelain white, with the same song repeating on the record player in the corner.

Sweet pear, sweet pear  
Those who say they love you would never dare  
I'll watch out for you, I'll always be there  
In the hour of your distress, you need not fear


End file.
